Warm
by Cumberbatch Critter
Summary: Being sick, it's never fun. But, with a certain, glittery  and warm  warlock... Maybe it's just a little bit better.


Warm

Alec woke up feeling considerably miserable. He'd spent the night at Magnus', well, so it seemed. The walls that he was staring at were definitely not his own. It was too bright, matter of factly... He squeezed his eyes shut and uttered a half a groan under his breath, pressing his hand over his eyes afterwards.

"Good morning, Alexander."

Alec only responded with a muffled confirmation of hearing the words. His head was throbbing; every noise was grating on his eardrums, whether it be the erractic clang of the air conditioning working or the birds chirping, or Magnus _bipp_'ing through the messages on his phone. His stomach felt strange, all jittery and shaky. It was like having butterflies, without really having the butterflies. If he didn't know better, he would have guessed that this was what a hangover felt like. He shivered just then, tucking himself further into the blankets.

"What's wrong?"

"C-Cold..."

"But I just turned the air on. It's stifling in here."

Alec only shook his head a bit, pulling the blanket over his nose. He was frigid, forget what Magnus said. Suddenly, he felt warmth against his forehead and he opened his eyes again to find Magnus having his hand pressed against his own skin. The warmth had come from Magnus' hand.

"You're burning up, Alec."

"Am not..." he muttered dryly, wanting to push his hand away, but he couldn't. He wanted the warmth almost as much as he didn't want the attention.

"You are. You've got a fever."

"Uh uh..." he replied stubbornly, letting his eyes close again. "Leave me alone..."

He heard the ever distinct snap of Magnus' magical fingers and he, relunctantly, opened his eyes yet again. Magnus was holding a thermometer out to him, the demand in his eyes. Alec very nearly argued, but soon relented; arguing would only make him sleepier and he hadn't the strength. He let the digital set under his tongue and waited for the soon-to-come _beep_.

Alec didn't like being sick. He moreso hated being sick when there were people worrying around him. He didn't like to lay around, he didn't like to feel vunerable (more than usual, anyway), and he hated being taken care of. This was why, when he felt particularly sick, he avoided looking at himself in the mirror to see how bad he looked, or taking his temperature to see how bad he was. For the same reasons, when he felt sick, he tried to stay away from the house as much as possible.

"102.3," Magnus stated aloud, and a little prickle of uneasiness washed through Alec. Shadowhunters very rarely caught any kind of cold, so a higher temperature was a reason to cause alarm.

"I'm okay..."

Really, he didn't feel okay. Actually, the more he spoke, the more pronounced the feeling became in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep, but he was starting to feel that 102.3 kicking in. He just was hoping it wouldn't get to the point where he threw up. Not only was it nasty, but this was Magnus he was with...

"Alexander, you have a fever of 102, you're not okay."

The blankets were suddenly pulled off him and he hissed against the rush of cold air, groping for them angrily. "Stop it!"

"Your body is only saying you're cold, but you're not. You need to stay uncovered."

"I don't care if I'm not cold! I feel cold!" He sat up quickly, trying to figure out where Magnus had put the blankets. But dizziness overtook his vision and the world tilted at the oddest angle; he felt like he was going to meet the carpet face first when Magnus' hands on his shoulders steadied him.

"Sit still..."

Alec only groaned, dropping his forehead against Magnus' arm. How pathetic...

Heat suddenly rushed into his face when he felt lips against his. His eyes snapped open as he stared at Magnus; he didn't recall raising his head, but here he was, kissing Magnus. Which was a terrible idea, considering the state of his stomach.

"M-Magnus..." he muttered, pulling away hesitantly. His head was still swimming, and every movement felt all too defined and slow. "What are you... doing?"

"Trying to make you feel better?" The way he said it, Alec couldn't help but laugh. It was the simplest, most innocent thing ever, like Magnus was really only the nineteen year old he looked to be.

"Yeah, right... You'll get sick, too..." he murmured, but couldn't help leaning a little closer. The heat radiating off of the warlock's body was drawing him in, taunting and teasing. He wanted that warmth like he needed air.

"I don't get sick easily," came the response, and Magnus' arms settled around Alec's shoulders. Shivering, but pleased, Alec leaned against his chest, pressing as close as he could.

"I hope not... Because I could never keep you warm... like you keep me," he murmured, curling his fingers around Magnus' shirt. Maybe it was because he was tired, or maybe it was because he was sick, he wasn't really noticing what he was saying. Although some part of him was, because the blush still was glowing brightly, two hectic crimson spots, on his cheeks.

"Silly... You keep me warm enough just by being here," Magnus muttered in return, hugging him close. "Just to have you by my side, I'm the warmest I've ever been."

* * *

><p><strong>Again, I have the issue of thinking it's OOC. I don't know? Can Shadowhunters even get sick? I haven't been a fan of TMI for very long, so if it was ever said in the books or by CClare, I missed it... x'D<strong>

**I hope you enjoy. I might continue if I have time? Reviews will be rewarded with a virtual cookie. Yeah. That's right.**


End file.
